


Just for Us

by blake_is_strange



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Eivor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cutscene, F/F, First Kiss, Mild Spoilers, Mutual Pining, Omega!Randvi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake_is_strange/pseuds/blake_is_strange
Summary: My take on the cutscene between Eivor and Randvi in the quest Taken for Granted in Assassin's Creed Valhalla. Eivor is torn and in love, but cannot truly act on her affections.
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 110





	Just for Us

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been playing the absolute shit out of this game because it's amazing, but there's a bug on the romance with Randvi so this is the only scene I've gotten for them so far. I figured, why not do my take on it? So here it is! Please check out my Tumblr @blake-is-strange97 to see how you can see my works early and vote on what comes next! Enjoy!

Eivor’s POV

There are so few things in this new land that I truly understand. In fact, the things I will probably never truly know are as numerous as the stars. But out of all those things, the one that leaves my heart the sorest is why Sigurd doesn’t see Randvi for what she truly is. 

As we stand atop the sunken tower, the stars in plain view for miles and miles, I see a fiercely adventurous soul. A woman who’s only true boundaries are enforced by her political marriage to my brother. A man who I’m not even truly sure I know fully any longer. He has become a stranger to me in our time here in England, a man unknowable beyond what he proclaims to be. A god in a man’s body. 

Just the memory of the proclamation draws forth my urge to growl, my heart aching terribly for the friend and brother I once held so near to my heart. The day after he was taken to Wessex with Fulke, I felt as though I barely knew him any better than a random stranger. Perhaps even less than that. He’s always been arrogant, though it is well-deserved from hard-fought confidence and status. 

When this all began, I truly was on his side, but now… now my dreams are becoming more and more like reality. Though physical bouts aren’t uncommon between two dominant alphas, Sigurd and I have never fought out of anger. But when I struck him I… I felt possessed. As soon as he’d mentioned my father, I’d lost my restraint. 

In a way, I know what he meant when he said I was impulsive, led by passion and emotion. But on the other hand, I’ve given everything up to follow his dream. To build his settlement. I’ve given up my feelings for Randvi for years because of Sigurd and his “destiny.” 

As much as I love my brother and pray to the gods for his safe return, I can’t help taking some solace in this moment alone with Randvi. 

She’s the image of pure beauty with her dark copper hair shimmering in the moonlight, creating an ethereal look about her high cheekbones and sharp blue eyes. I’ve known her for about half as long as I’ve known Sigurd, but my feelings for her are all but insurmountable in moments like this. When I’m faced with the fact that there’s something in me that could truly cause me to betray my brother. Something so powerful that it makes everything in me screams to throw my honor to the wind. 

But for Sigurd’s sake - and my own - I keep myself in check. 

And then Randvi speaks. She speaks of staying in this moment forever, like it’s a dream and I tell her that we can stay as long as she’d like because the truth is that I couldn’t leave this moment even if I tried. It’s too perfect here with her. Too serene and beautiful and the way she tells me about how she  _ used  _ to be is heartbreaking. I want to tell her that she can still be who she wants to be. That Sigurd doesn’t control her life. That his fate doesn’t determine hers. But that would be hypocritical of me, to say the least. 

I’d follow my brother through Helheim, even after what he did, what he said.

And then Randvi kisses me and the world fades to nothingness all around me. It’s quick, fleeting, and far too short, but the gentleness of it is seared onto my mind like a brand. 

I’ve dreamed for three long years what Randvi’s lips would like against my own and the fantasies will never do the reality justice. Her mouth is sure, confident while still managing to be soft and so heart-achingly sweet that I nearly chase her lips down again for more. 

But she’s pulling away from me before I have time to truly understand what’s just happened and I feel as though my stomach were full of wriggling eels. 

She keeps apologizing, claiming that her heart and head are at odds and that she’s put me in a difficult position. I keep telling her that the apologies aren’t necessary. That the mead and the air can claim our bodies and minds as though possessed. 

“The truth of it is… I have felt this way for some time now. I care for you, Eivor.” 

Her words strike me as though they were blows, heavy and burning against my heart. My very soul screams out that I confess, that I kiss her back and show her that she is loved, cared for, truly cherished. Seen for the fierce, wild woman that she is. 

But now is not the time. 

My body feels numb as I tell her just that. The timing isn’t right. I cannot betray Sigurd, regardless of what he’s said, what he’s done. Because he is my brother and he has a claim to Randvi before anyone and everything else. Unless their marriage is dissolved or Sigurd passes to Valhalla, my love for Randvi can never come to fruition. 

So we claim to be friends, even though we both know that there is far more to it than that. 

Randvi wants to stay at the top of the tower a bit longer and eventually, she falls asleep. 

I lay beside her for a long while, staring up at the stars even though my eyes and body want to betray me. The cold seems to get to Randvi sometime in the night because she shuffles closer to me and I can’t help but hold her close. Her face is pressed gently to my chest, her arms held between our bodies and I wrap my sword arm around her middle, supporting my head with the opposite arm. I can’t stop myself from staring at her then. The way her chest rises and falls with each peaceful breath, how her eyes flicker behind their closed lids, showing me that she must be dreaming. Her scent fills my lungs, soothing the raging storm that swirls deep inside my gut. 

I fall asleep soon after and wake in the cold morning sun, alone. And my heart bleeds inside me. 

_ What would my father think of me now? A drengr fighting for another man’s mysterious cause.  _

But wasn’t he doing the same? He was King Styrbjorn’s right arm as I am Sigurd’s, but he did not die with honor. Am I willing to die the same death as my father for a man who does not value me other than to satisfy his own agenda?

As I ride back to Raventhorpe, my entire body is tense with indecision. 

Randvi will probably never be mine. But I will always be hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and have an awesome day!


End file.
